


Losing Grip (On What I Used to Hold)

by gehirnstuerm



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gehirnstuerm/pseuds/gehirnstuerm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is temporarily incapacitated by injuries and Danny has to give him a hand. Things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing Grip (On What I Used to Hold)

**Author's Note:**

> This is shamelessly self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic. You've been warned! Big thanks to **LacrimaDracnonis** for cheerleading and **wattle_neurotic** for beta-reading in lightning speed! Special thanks to **kachera** , who answered all my questions about wrist injuries. Oh, and the title is a line I stole from the song "Zip-Lock" by Lit.

Scaphoid fracture of the left wrist, distal radius fracture near his right wrist and in addition to that, fractures in both his index and middle finger of the right hand. Steve doesn’t even know exactly how this happened. One minute he was chasing some drug traffickers up a staircase, the next he’s face down on the asphalt outside the building.

“Steve! Steve! Hey, Steve!” Danny kept saying, his voice shaking. When Steve had finally gathered his wits enough to look up, he could see that Danny was white as a sheet.

“Danny? What happened?” he’d been able to gasp out and Danny had released an audible breath.

“That’s what I’d like to know, babe. I was kind of hoping you’d be able to tell me!”

But he wasn’t, which was one of the reasons why Danny had insisted on taking him to the hospital, and that was even before Steve had told him about his aching wrists.

“Oh no, no, no, Steven,” Danny had said. “For all I know, you just took a dive out of a window. You’re definitely going to the hospital. You’re also bleeding from the head, in case you haven’t noticed.”

Turns out, the short memory loss (or retrograde amnesia, as the doctors called it) is a symptom of his concussion and he has a nasty laceration on his forehead, not to mention countless bruises and abrasions.

When the doctor recommends an overnight stay at the hospital, Steve refuses.

 

“I’m going home,” Steve announces to Danny, who has apparently been pacing in the hallway the whole time.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Danny argues. Of course he does, Steve hasn’t expected anything else from his partner.

“Watch me!” Steve says, tilting his chin up.

Danny sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Are you insane? You have two arms in a cast, you don’t even know what happened to you, there’s possibly brain fluid leaking out of your head right this second, and you can’t even stay at the hospital for 24 hours?” He throws up his hands in frustration. “You’re impossible!”

Danny has a point. If the situation were reversed, he would probably bully Danny into staying overnight, just to make sure he’s okay. But Steve is feeling relatively fine and he knows he’ll recover better in his own home with his own bed and with actually edible food. There’s no way in hell he’s going to stay at the hospital any longer than absolutely necessary.

“I’m going home, Danny.” Steve repeats firmly.

It takes a while before Danny reacts, but he must know that Steve’s decision will not be swayed. Eventually he rubs a weary hand over his mouth and heaves a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll drive you.”

 

***

 

The injuries aren’t too painful, Steve has definitely had worse. The headache is annoying, but not unbearable, but he’s still feeling a little dizzy. He’s also ridiculously tired, so it takes all his willpower not to nod off in the car on the way home. It doesn’t help that Danny is unusually quiet and doesn’t do anything to keep him entertained. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever experienced such a silent ride in the Camaro. It’s unnerving. Hell, Danny even rants during car chases! Not now, though. He keeps his eyes on the road most of the time, but Steve catches Danny glancing over to check on him every other minute.

Steve’s too tired to start a conversation. Instead he busies himself with studying his hands and their level of uselessness. Now that his battered wrists are immobilized, they don’t hurt anymore, but that doesn’t mean he can do much with them. His right hand is pretty much fucked - with a cast over your wrist and three of your fingers, there isn’t much you can do. Steve wiggles the fingers of his left hand experimentally and is pleased to see that he can use them to some extent. At least he can bend them a little and he should be able to hold things with his finger tips. This is a relief, because a couple of weeks can be very long if you can’t go to the bathroom by yourself. But there are still a lot of things he won’t be able to do in the foreseeable future and just thinking about this degree of helplessness makes Steve groan.

Alarmed by the sound, Danny glances in his direction. “You okay?” he asks, worry evident in his tone.

“Yeah... I’m fine.” Steve grumbles. “It’s just... two broken wrists? Really?”

Danny snorts softly in response as he pulls into Steve’s driveway. “I know, babe. That’s pretty screwed up.”

Steve wants to get out of the car as soon as Danny has turned off the engine, but even that proves difficult. He’s still fumbling with the door handle when Danny appears on his side of the car and opens the door for him. Turns out, Danny also has to let him into his own house, because while he could push in the alarm code, it’s impossible for Steve to handle the keys. It’s only the first day of many and Steve is already fed up with everything.

He turns to say goodbye to Danny, but the other man is looking at him as if he is completely out of his mind. He knows this expression, Danny wears it a lot and more often than not, Steve is the cause of it. Steve probably shouldn’t find it endearing, but he does. Of course Danny doesn’t need to know that.

“Are you serious?” Danny huffs. “I’m not leaving you alone. And no, that’s not up for discussion.You have a concussion and should be in _hospital_ , so it’s up to me to make sure you don’t die in your sleep or something. ”

Steve just briefly closes his eyes and flops down on the couch. He’s too beat to argue anyway and it must be quite obvious, because Danny’s expression softens a little.

“Speaking of which, you should rest. You really look like crap.” He gestures vaguely in the direction of the couch.

“No, I’m good,” he mumbles, but it’s mostly for show. He’s already lying on the couch more than he’s sitting and his eyes are drooping.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Danny huffs, but Steve can hear affection in his tone and can’t suppress a lazy smile.

“And now he’s smirking. He’s half asleep, but he’s smirking. Come one, nap-time!” Danny orders and Steve can feel his feet being lifted onto the couch. There’s some tugging at his shoe laces and then his boots come off. “Tell me if you need anything, I’m right here. Okay?”

Steve manages an affirmative mumble before he’s drifting off to sleep.

 

***

 

When Steve opens his eyes again, he feels a bit disoriented. It takes him a moment to realize that he's lying on the couch in his living room and it must be late in the afternoon or early in the evening. It's disconcerting, to say the least. After all he was trained to sleep light and to be alert within split seconds after regaining consciousness. Now he's feeling the opposite of alert. Steve knows the concussion is to blame for that, but it's irritating nonetheless.

He’s busy struggling into a sitting position when Danny enters the room. It shouldn’t be hard, even without the support of his hands, but the dizziness makes everything a little more difficult.

“Hey, easy!” Danny says. In an instant he’s right beside Steve and reaches out to help him up.

“Don’t!” Steve snaps, but he instantly regrets it, especially when Danny pulls his hand away as if burned.

Steve clears his throat. “Sorry. Uhm. I mean, I’m fine. I was just feeling a little dizzy. With sleep, I mean.” he hurries to add, when he sees the worried look on Danny’s face.

“You sure?” Danny asks. “No nausea or anything? You want to take your meds?”

“I’m fine, Danny.” Steve says firmly, trying to sound reassuring. “Honestly. Just a little headache, that’s all. And these, of course!” Steve holds up his arms and flashes Danny a sheepish grin, which earns him a little half-smile.

“Okay, fine. No drugs. Anything else? You want to change your shirt? You’ve bled all over this one, it’s disgusting.” Danny’s gaze drops from Steve’s face to his torso and looking down, Steve notices it’s true: Another perfectly good polo shirt is ruined.

“Yeah, I guess that would be a good idea.” Steve answers, slowly getting up to follow Danny who’s already walking in the direction of Steve’s bedroom.

Steve hovers on the doorstep while Danny is rummaging around in his closet. The fact that Danny is in his bedroom makes him feel a bit jittery. It’s ridiculous. After all, he’s not a teenage boy who has company in his bedroom for the very first time and most importantly, said company will not end up in his bed anytime soon. Probably not ever.

“Aha!” Danny exclaims, apparently satisfied with what he’s found. He turns around, presenting a loose tank top and a pair of board shorts. “You should be able to get in and out of these on your own.” Frowning, he takes a closer look at Steve. “I’m not so sure about getting out of this one, though. I think I’ll need to give you a hand there. Is that okay?”

Steve freezes, because oh... Danny is about to undress him. Not that he’s generally opposed to the idea. No, the opposite is true. He has imagined Danny undressing him and vice versa very often and in great detail and it really isn’t supposed to go down like this.

In Steve’s fantasies, Danny rips off his shirt, because he can’t wait to see him naked and definitely not because Steve’s too crippled to get out of it by himself. It’s like a travesty of what Steve wants and can’t get and the thought makes his stomach clench.

But it would be silly to refuse Danny’s help, because if push came to shove it wouldn’t be impossible to get out of his polo on his own, but it would be quite a struggle and also incredibly awkward. There’s no good reason for not letting Danny help, except the one Steve can’t say out loud. Steve curses himself for not opting for something with a looser fit in the morning and just shrugs.

And then Danny’s standing right in front of him. This shouldn’t make Steve’s heart beat faster like it does, but Steve can’t help it. He tries to control his breathing, steady himself for the touch, and fails miserably. It’s just a second, but Steve’s breath still hitches when Danny pushes up the hem of his shirt and his knuckles brush over bare skin. Then Danny’s hands are gone again, along with his t-shirt, pulling the short sleeves carefully over Steve’s outstretched arms. He’s never had a problem with shirtlessness, as Danny never fails to remind him, but now Steve feels awkward, standing half-naked in his bedroom. Hurriedly Steve grabs for the clean shirt Danny is holding out for him and pulls it over his head.

For a second Steve thinks he’s safe, even though Danny is still standing pretty close to him and his pulse hasn’t considerably slowed down yet. But then an unpleasant thought crosses his mind. His pants! There’s no way he can open the buttons alone. Oh no, Steve thinks. This is bad. This is really, really bad.

Steve is sure his panic must be obvious and he expects Danny to call him out on making one of his faces or at least crack a joke, but the other man just shoots him a funny look and shrugs. “Come on, McGarrett, let’s get it over and done with.”

Danny seems perfectly calm when he reaches down to open Steve’s pants, but sadly, Steve can’t say the same about himself. Danny’s hand brushes his lower belly when he opens the top button of his cargos with a flick of his wrist and Steve can barely suppress a shudder. This whole thing is as far from sex as it can get, but his body doesn’t care and it’s taking far too much interest in the situation. Of course, these ridiculous pants have several buttons instead of a zipper, which means Danny has to reach even further down to open all of them. All Steve can do is hold his breath and pray that his growing erection will go unnoticed, but then he can’t take it anymore.

“Okay!” Steve all but yelps, stumbling back a little. “I can take it from here.”

Danny just blinks a few times, obviously taken aback by his reaction. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll leave you to it.”

Once Danny has left the room, Steve curses under his breath. His crush on Danny is bad enough as it is, he really doesn’t need situations like this to make it even worse. With a sigh Steve starts struggling out of the cargo pants and into his shorts. It’s difficult, but he manages and by the time he has succeeded, Steve has calmed down enough to face Danny again.

 

***

 

When he pads downstairs he finds Danny on the couch with the TV running.

“Hey, you made it!” Danny grins and pats the sofa cushion beside him.

Despite his sour mood Steve can’t help but return the smile and follow Danny’s invitation.

“Are you hungry?” Danny asks. “Of course you’re hungry, but I bet you’re even thirstier. Sorry I didn’t think of that earlier.” He reaches out for a huge glass of water with a straw in it and holds it out for Steve to drink.

“Uh, thanks...” Steve manages, weirdly touched by the gesture. He hesitantly tilts his head down to suck on the straw while Danny is patiently holding the glass for him. That’s when Steve notices there’s a plate with sandwiches on the coffee table, all cut in handy pieces. “Oh, you made dinner!”

Danny sets down the glass. He shrugs with one shoulder and grins a little sheepishly. “I would’ve gone for take-out, but I didn’t know which food you could handle and we shouldn’t get your casts dirty either, so...” He trails off, seeming a bit embarrassed.

“No,” Steve hurries to say, “it’s fine! I’m starving!” And it’s true. As if on cue, Steve’s stomach starts rumbling and he attacks the sandwiches. It’s awkward and more difficult than it has any right to be, but Steve manages to gingerly hold the sandwich pieces with his left hand and angle his arm, so he can shove them into his mouth. He eats his share without any major accidents.

They watch a basketball game on TV, but Steve doesn’t mind too much, because he’s feeling much better than earlier. There’s just a faint throbbing in the back of his head, he’s well fed and of course, there are worse things than spending an evening with Danny. Something’s off, though. Danny is still unusually quiet. For Williams standards, that is. He still comments on the game or mutters to himself, he exchanges a few words with Steve here and there, but it’s all very subdued.

Normally Danny would rant or even yell at the referee, berate Steve for his lack of basketball knowledge and generally take every opportunity to bicker with him. There’s none of this now and Steve is starting to get a little worried. He hasn’t done anything to piss Danny off, he’s sure of it. He hasn’t even been particularly reckless today, at least as far as he knows, so this can’t be the reason.

Could it be that Danny is uncomfortable with helping him out and does it anyway because of some stupid sense of obligation? Of course, Danny is usually the last person to not speak his mind and tell Steve exactly what’s bothering him, but he’s also fiercely loyal. He wouldn’t bail on his injured partner, even if he’s a burden to him. Even if said partner is tenting his pants in inappropriate situations, Steve thinks with a wince.

He wills himself not to panic and takes a closer look at Danny. For all his quietness, Danny doesn’t look tense at all. If Steve’s presence made him uncomfortable, he probably wouldn’t lounge on the couch right next to Steve, as unconcerned with personal space as ever. Steve dismisses the thought and allows himself to relax a little and focus on the game, even though he has no idea who’s playing and whom he should root for, according to Danny.

Once in a while Danny holds out the water glass so Steve can take a sip and it’s always in the right moment. Maybe it’s a coincidence, but perhaps they just know each other so well that they not only finish each other’s sentences but also know when the other is thirsty. It’s an eerie thought, but it’s also very nice somehow. Reassuring, even.

When Danny does it again, he gets distracted by the game and accidentally moves the glass away while Steve’s still sucking on the straw. Without thinking, Steve reaches up to hold it steady, but he ends up covering Danny’s hand with his own. The sudden touch startles him so much that he chokes on his water and starts coughing.

“Whoa, easy!” Danny sets the water glass down and claps Steve on the back. “Are you all right?”

Steve nods jerkily, even though he’s still wheezing. “Yeah, I’m good.” he gets out. “I’m going to bed. Tired.”

This hasty retreat is the opposite of smooth and it makes Steve hate himself a little, but he can’t help it. His self-control is shot to hell at the moment, so he needs to as far away from Danny as possible and get a grip on his emotions.

 

***

 

Steve knows he should give his concussed brain a little rest, but sleep doesn’t come. He’s far too agitated, annoyed, confused... and well, he’s kind of horny, too. His mind keeps straying back to Danny in general and to that incident in the bedroom in particular. Steve thinks about Danny’s hands on his skin, these brief, innocent touches that were enough to make him crazy. He can’t help imagining what it would be like, if Danny really touched him, what he could do to him with the right intention... and this is a train of thought he should abandon at once.

Because there’s something else he can’t do with his immobilized arms. Steve groans in frustration.

When he got the diagnosis, he was annoyed at the prospect of several weeks full of inconveniences, boredom and foul moods. He still is, because Steve knows he isn’t good with idleness. He needs action, he needs movement and of course, he hates to depend on other people. Steve thought his main problem would be not getting bored out of his skull and probably avoiding getting killed by an annoyed Jersey cop who’s sick of his moods.

But this is so much worse and he didn’t see it coming at all. It’s not surprising that Danny stayed to take care of him, even if he hadn’t initially thought of it. The strength of his own reactions is what’s taken Steve by surprise. He’d thought his feelings for Danny were under control, but apparently, this is only true in normal circumstances that don’t require close physical proximity.

This arrangement doesn’t work, at any rate. Steve doesn’t even want to imagine spending more days like this, let alone weeks. If he let Danny stay and take care of him, he’d risk not only their friendship, but also their work relationship, because sooner or later Danny would notice something was up. And even aside from all the emotional turmoil, Steve couldn’t stand being a burden to Danny. It’s just not his partner’s job to baby him and make sure he’s properly fed and dressed. The thought alone makes Steve cringe.

 

***

 

He must have drifted off eventually, because the alarm clock tells him it’s 4:30 in the morning. The additional hours of sleep have worked wonders, because Steve is pleased to find the throbbing in the back of his head has almost faded completely. He’s wide awake now, so he decides there is no use in staying in bed. He obviously can’t go for a morning swim and a run is most probably not a good idea either. But a little walk along the beach would be great and he could really use the fresh air.

Steve swings his legs off the bed and pads over to the closed bedroom door. He reaches out for the doorknob with his left, only to discover that he can’t really take a hold of it, much less turn it. It’s too slippery and he can’t muster enough strength in his fingers to hold on to it. Needless to say, his right hand isn’t any help either.

Steve continues to ineffectively fumble at the doorknob and anger is building up inside him until he just gives the door a hearty kick. He didn’t kick hard enough to do any damage, but the sound is loud in the otherwise quiet house. There’s no way Danny hasn’t heard it.

Sure enough, it only takes seconds until Steve hears Danny’s footsteps on the stairs. Steve moves away from the door not a moment too soon, because Danny pretty much storms in.

“Steve,” he breathes, his eyes wide. “You okay? What happened?”

He visibly relaxes when he sees Steve standing upright in the shadows of the room.

Steve can feel his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Yes, yes, I’m okay!” he grumbles. “I -- I just got angry with the fucking doorknob. I didn’t mean to wake you up, sorry.”

Usually Steve would expect to be mocked mercilessly or at least teased a little. But Danny does nothing of the sort.

“Oh, sorry!” he says. “I should have thought of that. I’ll check if all the other doors are open.” And with that Danny’s out in the hallway. “Anything else?” he calls back to Steve, who’s still standing in the middle of his bedroom.

“No, no, it’s okay. Go back to sleep! I just had to take a leak, that’s all.”

Once he’s sure Danny has retreated downstairs to the living room, Steve enters the bathroom, making sure not to shut the door entirely. He sits down heavily on the toilet lit and stares gloomily at the wall.

That’s just great: A Navy SEAL defeated by a doorknob! That’s how capable and useless he is right now. Steve really doesn’t want to know what other nasty surprises and humiliations the next couple of days and weeks will have in store for him. That’s just another reason why Danny shouldn’t be helping him out: If someone has to witness his state of inadequacy at all, it should be a stranger and definitely not the one person in whose eyes Steve wants to be perfect, as stupid as it sounds.

 

***

 

Steve must have hidden in the bathroom longer than he’d thought, because when he finds Danny sitting at the kitchen table, he’s already holding a cup of coffee. Danny takes a sip and glances up at Steve, his expression curious. “What’s up?

Steve takes a deep breath. “I want you to go to work today. I don’t need your help anymore.”

Danny snorts. “You, my friend, have brain damage. Of course you need help, even if you don’t like it.”

“No!” Steve snaps. “I mean, yes, I need help. Obviously. I’ll get a housekeeper, a nurse, whatever.”

Danny sets his mug down. “Don’t be ridiculous, McGarrett!” he huffs. “There’s no need for a nurse.”

“Danny!” Steve barks. “I don’t want you to take care of me.” It comes out harsher than intended and Steve winces at the unmistakable hurt flashing on Danny’s face.

This isn’t going well.

“Look,” Steve tries again. “I just meant... I’m grateful for your help. I really am. But you have enough on your plate as it is and babying your crippled partner isn’t anyone’s idea of fun. So. I don’t want to be a burden.” It’s at least half of the truth.

“Oh please!” Danny snorts. “Don’t be so melodramatic. You’re not a burden!”

“I’m not being melodramatic!” Steve shoots back. “I’m just saying it like it is. I’m injured and cranky and as much as I hate it, I need help. But it doesn’t have to be you!”

“Yes it does, it has to be me.” Danny says vehemently, his jaw set.

Steve frowns. “And why is that? As my partner you have a lot of duties, but making me sandwiches and helping me dress is not--”

“I thought I’d lost you, okay?” Danny almost yells. “I thought you were dead!”

Steve’s just blinks, confused by the pained expression on his partner’s face. “What?”

Danny scrubs a hand over his eyes and leaves it there, but he doesn’t answer.

“Danny?” Steve gently prompts, suddenly not sure where this is going.

Danny looks up at Steve but instantly averts his eyes again. When he finally speaks, his voice is raw with emotion. “You were lying on the asphalt and you didn’t move. I thought you were dead. I was supposed to be your backup and you almost...” Danny lets out a breath and starts again. “This shouldn’t have happened. The least I can do now is... “ Danny pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “You know what? Nevermind. Forget I said anything.” With that, he abruptly stands up and slips out of the sliding door leading to the lanai.

Steve remains in stunned silence for a few moments, his mind reeling with the implications of both Danny’s words and the things he didn’t say.

So while Steve was busy feeling sorry for himself and battling his raging hormones like a goddamn teenager, Danny was blaming himself for Steve’s accident and the resulting injuries. Suddenly Steve feels incredibly stupid. He hadn’t once stopped to think of what it must have been like for Danny, finding him motionless on the ground, with blood streaming over his face. It must have scared the shit out of him. If he had found Danny like this... the mere thought makes Steve’s blood run cold.

And now Danny is blaming himself, even though none of it was his fault. True, Danny wasn’t exactly hot on his heels, but that was probably because he had some thug to deal with - and it’s not like Steve had waited before he’d charged into the building. But Steve gets it. He always feels responsible when a member of his team gets hurt and in a situation like this, there’s no way he wouldn’t have blamed himself, even against better judgment.

Finally, Steve moves to follow Danny. He can’t be far, after all he’s in his undershirt and boxers and he's not wearing shoes either. Sure enough, Danny is standing on the beach not far from the house, apparently staring at the waves. In the twilight of dawn Steve can only see Danny’s silhouette from the distance. As he’s approaching he can make out a few more details like the tense set of Danny’s shoulders and the stray strands of hair blowing in the ocean breeze.

Steve moves to stand close to Danny, brushing his arm against the other man’s shoulder.

“I thought you hated the beach,” Steve offers, watching Danny’s profile.

A little smirk appears on his face, but he doesn’t look at Steve when he answers. “I do, but it’s not like I can escape it. It’s everywhere!”

They stand in companionable silence for a while until Steve speaks again. “It wasn’t your fault, you know that, right?”

Danny casts his eyes down to watch his toes dig into the sand, but he remains silent.

“Danny,” Steve tries again, but Danny still doesn’t say anything or look at him.

With a sigh Steve turns to stand right in front of Danny, but the other man continues to look at the ground. Seeing Danny so dejected makes Steve’s heart ache and out of impulse, Steve reaches up with his left hand to let his fingertips brush lightly over Danny’s cheek.

The surprising touch makes Danny look up and the intensity of his gaze takes Steve’s breath away. His expression is completely open and unguarded and Steve can see pain and hope and something else he doesn’t dare to name.

After a short moment of hesitation Steve leans ins and presses his lips against Danny’s. When Steve draws back, Danny just stares at him, long enough for Steve to get a little nervous. But then Danny’s lips are on his again and his worries evaporate.

Danny kisses like a drowning man, urgent and a little desperate, his hands clinging to Steve’s t-shirt. All Steve can do is meet his kiss with the same intensity and try to wrap his arms around Danny as tightly as possible.

It seems to go on forever, but they both have to come up for air eventually. It’s Steve who reluctantly breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Danny’s, trying to catch his breath.

“Wow,” Danny pants. “That was...”

“Yeah...” Steve agrees and moves in for another kiss.

He has every intention to go a little slower this time, explore Danny’s mouth a little more thoroughly, savour every moment, but Danny is so very close and his hands are buried in Steve’s hair, all of it making it impossible to hold back. When Steve deepens the kiss and pulls Danny even closer, he can feel his erection through the thin layers of clothing.

“Come to bed with me,” Steve mumbles between kisses, pressing his thigh between Danny’s legs.

Danny groans, but still tries to put a little distance between Steve and himself. “No! I mean yes, I want to, but...”

“I’m fine, Danny!” Steve growls, pulling Danny closer again. “We’ll just have to make sure not to bang my head on the headboard...”

Danny briefly closes his eyes and curses under his breath, momentarily overwhelmed by the imagery Steve’s words have conjured up. “Okay, okay, I’m convinced. Let’s go.”

Danny leads the way, but they’re making very slow progress, because Danny’s kisses are addictive and Steve has a hard time letting go, even if it’s just for short moments. Steve regrets once more the uselessness of his hands, especially when Danny is climbing the stairs right in front of him. There’s no denying that Danny’s butt is pretty spectacular.

 

“Here we are again,” Danny grins when they’re finally standing opposite each other in Steve’s bedroom. “Who knew I would get to undress you twice in less than twelve hours?”  
Danny pushes his hands underneath the hem of Steve’s shirt and this time Steve doesn’t suppress the gasp that wants to escape him when Danny’s fingers ghost over his skin and pull up his shirt. “I swear, babe - keeping a professional facade last time wasn’t easy.”

“Tell me about it!” Steve laughs and moves in for another kiss. He tugs at the hem of Danny’s shirt with the fingers of his left hand and Danny takes the hint. With a fluid motion he strips out of his shirt, pushes Steve onto the bed and settles on the mattress right next to him, his lips only leaving Steve’s when absolutely necessary.

This is how it’s supposed to be. This is exactly how Steve has imagined it and better. Danny’s lips and his hands are driving him insane and he wants more. But when he tries to take control and roll on top of Danny, the other man gently pushes him away.

“No, no, no, babe. You’re still injured. Get comfortable and stay still. Let me do the work.” Danny chides.

Steve wants to argue, but the wicked glint in Danny’s eyes makes him do as he’s told. Steve lays back on the soft pillows of his bed as Danny settles between his legs. Steve has to shut his eyes for a moment, because feeling Danny so close, with just two thin layers of cotton separating them, is almost to much to bear.

Danny’s trailing kisses along Steve’s jaw, his neck, his collar bone, while his hands are roaming all over his upper body. Right now, Steve would kill to have at least one of his casts off, so he could properly run a hand along Danny’s spine and the strong muscles of his back and shoulders. All he can do now is lightly touch Danny’s skin with his fingertips.

Before Steve can get frustrated, he’s thoroughly distracted by Danny’s fingers skimming the hem of his boxers and it’s almost enough to make Steve come right then and there. Danny must feel the same though, because he suddenly hurries to push down their underwear and wraps his hand around both of them. They both groan at the intensity of the feeling and Steve thinks his brain is about to short-circuit. It doesn’t take very long before orgasm hits him with the force of a fire truck.

 

***

 

When Steve wakes up for the second time, there’s bright sunlight streaming into the bedroom. With a smile he realizes that there’s a warm body pressed against his back and an arm slung across his middle.

“Morning again,” Danny mumbles against the nape of Steve’s neck, his voice still husky with sleep. “How’s your head?”

Steve rolls over to look at Danny and doesn’t even bother suppressing a grin. The other man’s eyes are heavy-lidded and he’s got a serious case of bedhead going on. “Fine. My head is fine.”

Danny props himself up on one elbow. “Yeah? You sure?” He reaches out to caress the side of Steve’s face and Steve can’t help leaning into the touch. “What about your arms?”

Steve rolls his eyes a little, but instead of answering, he hooks his elbow around the back of Danny’s neck to pull him down for a kiss.

It’s very different from the kisses they traded earlier this morning. There’s no urgency in it, just soft brushes of lips and slow strokes of tongues that make Steve’s heart flutter. It’s perfect and there’s nothing in the world he’d rather be doing right now.

When Danny breaks the kiss and looks down on him with a lazy smile, Steve suddenly feels the need to set the record straight again.

“It really wasn’t your fault, you know.” Steve says. “The idea didn’t even cross my mind.”

Danny grimaces. “Yeah. Rationally, I know that.”

“Okay, that’s something. We can work with that.” Steve decides. “Hey, if it makes you feel better, you can continue to be my nurse!”

Danny arches an eyebrow. “Is that so? What made you change your mind?”

“Oh, I just thought you’re best equipped for certain tasks that need to be performed. Like in the shower.” Steve waggles his eyebrows. “I’m sure you’d be a great help in the shower.”

A predatory grin appears on Danny’s face. “I can be very thorough,” he murmurs and it makes Steve’s heart beat faster in anticipation.

The next couple of weeks might turn out much better than expected after all.

 

FIN


End file.
